Choices(Waiting for Forever BK 1)

by Jamie Mayfield

  “Sure, Brian, thanks for making it easy for me,” she said with a smile. “Want something quick because you have a hot date?” I almost choked on the soda I was drinking. With effort, I managed not to spew it all over the table.

  “No, actually, I was planning to hang out with Jamie,” I told her in the most casual tone I could conjure.

  “You spend a lot of time with Jamie, I notice, to the exclusion of anyone else.”

  Well, if that wasn’t a perfect opening. Why am I so terrified of taking it?

  Carolyn put a large silver cover over the frying pan she was using for the chicken, set the tongs down on the plastic spoon holder next to the stove, and came over to sit down at the table across from me. Her expression was kind as she watched me fidget in my seat. It was almost like she knew I had something to tell her, but she didn’t prod or pressure me; she just waited. I stared at the table, the shiny polished surface reflecting the light from the setting sun shining in through the back door.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” I said with a sigh, not looking up.

  “I might get upset, I might get angry, but you know I’ll still care about you, right?” she asked, dipping her head down to catch my eye. I nodded. Intellectually, I knew that was true, but it didn’t make me any less afraid to tell her. I was definitely not ready to be “outed” yet, to be forcibly removed from the safety of my closet where it was nice and dark and comfortable. Everything I needed was there: my dignity, the respect of my foster parents and friends, and Jamie’s love. What will happen when the door of that closet is opened, with or without my permission, and a bright light is shined on my life, on my relationship with Jamie? Even though I was only telling her, it felt like I was exposing everything in that closet to the world. Richard had already suspected before he’d brought me into his office to talk. Carolyn would be the first person I had consciously chosen to tell. It was a huge distinction in my mind, and a deep line in the sand that felt like a chasm.

  I took a deep breath.

  “I think…. No, it’s more than that…,” I started, fumbling over my words much like I’d fumbled over my words to Richard. Taking another breath, I ripped off the proverbial Band-Aid.

  “I’m gay.”

  I hung my head, unable to look at her. I kept my eyes on the table, preparing myself for the hurtful words that were sure to come. However, to my surprise, the tears didn’t fall from my eyes. The secret was out, and there was no taking it back.

  “I’m very disappointed in you, Brian,” Carolyn said, and not only did her words convey that message, but I could hear it in her voice as well.

  “Do you think I wanted this?” I asked incredulously. “Do you think I’m happy being some kind of freak? You can’t be any more disappointed in me for being gay than I already am in myself.” I started to get up from the table; her disapproval and disappointment were exactly the reason I hadn’t wanted to tell her and hurt more than I wanted to admit to myself.

  “I’m not disappointed in you because you’re gay, Brian,” she said, and her voice was sharp, angry. “I’m disappointed because you’re ashamed of it.” I looked at her in surprise. “Since we brought you home, I have tried to teach you that you are someone to be proud of. Being gay, no matter what any of the small-minded people around here have to say, is nothing to be ashamed of. That’s the way that God made you, and I doubt that He’s ashamed of you.” Her voice softened again as I sat back down at the table.

  “It’s Jamie, isn’t it?” she asked with a small smile, and I nodded. “I always wondered…. I’m glad you’ve found someone that you care about. It’s something I always wanted for you because you’ve been so alone. I knew the first day you brought him home from school with you that you would be very close. He’s a good boy.” She patted my hand as she stood up to go back to the stove. All the fear and the procrastination in telling her were for nothing.

  “He is that,” I said, a grin on my face since she’d first said his name.

  “Are you staying over there on your birthday?” she asked, trying for casual but only achieving mildly curious. I nodded, explaining that the Mayfields had already cleared it if it was okay with her. “It’s fine with me. I’m glad it will be something special for you.”

  I certainly hoped it would be special. There was only one thing I had asked of Jamie for my birthday. He was hesitant, but he hadn’t said no. I think he understood that it was the next logical step in our relationship.

  More than anything else on earth, what I wanted was for us to make love.

  10

  I STOOD in the center of the small space alone with Jamie. The shutters that keeping out the rain pounding on the roof also kept out prying eyes from our most intimate evening. After setting up two small battery-operated lanterns that cast a warm glow throughout the room, Jamie crawled off the mattress and stood in front of me.

  “Are you sure, Brian?” he asked for what seemed like the twelfth time. My eyes never left his as I nodded. Reaching down, I grabbed the hem of my worn T-shirt and pulled it up over my head. I let it drop to the floor silently.

  “I want you to make love to me, Jamie,” I told him with no ambiguity in either my voice or the words. He reached down, tentatively grasping the bottom of his tank top. When it was on the floor next to my shirt, he was finally in my arms. As our deep, tender kisses became more impassioned, more heated, I unbuttoned my jeans with trembling fingers. I wanted this. I wanted for us to have that one thing, that one connection that no one could take from us. No one would have as deep a connection with Jamie as I would—not Emma, not anyone. I needed it.

  I needed him.

  Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of both my jeans and my briefs, I pulled them down. As I stepped out and straightened up, I felt every bit as naked as I appeared. I was scared but determined. Looking at me, indecision and fear on his face, he finally undressed, his eyes never leaving mine. Being naked in front of Jamie had started to arouse me, but the sight of him nude excited me even more.

  Then his lips were on mine, and I forgot about being scared.

  “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against mine as he held me. I could hear the fear in his voice.

  “I want to do this,” I said, gently taking his face into my hands. “I want to be yours, Jamie, in every way. We’re going to go back to school soon, back to pretending, and I need to hold on to this. When I see you walking down the hall holding her hand, I need to know that I have something of you that she doesn’t.”

  Pulling back sharply, he looked at me, but my eyes were on the floor. It was ridiculous to feel that way, after all we had been through, all we had done together. While I couldn’t explain why it was so important to me, I just knew it was. Perhaps I just wanted to quiet some of the fear, the fear that he would one day leave me.

  “You have everything,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. The emotions, plainly visible on his face and in his eyes, were staggering. Love, respect, and even a bit of fear were all evident as he kissed me again. I felt his love in every short, heated meeting of our lips, in each tightening of his arms around my waist, and I knew what he was saying was true. No matter what kinds of odds were stacked against us being together, there was no doubt that he wanted me every bit as much as I wanted him.

  “If you don’t want to…,” I whispered, unable to finish as my disappointment and fear of rejection washed through me. I had been prepared to have sex with Jamie that night, ready emotionally and physically, but I felt the sting of his hedging deep in my chest. With strong fingers, he forced my chin up so that my eyes met his.

  “Of course I do,” he said, his eyes blazing. “I just don’t want us to have sex just to prove something. I want it to happen because of the way we feel about each other.”

  He wanted me, as much as I wanted him. I crushed myself to him, pressing my face into his neck.

  “I love you, Jamie. Please, I want to show you.”

  Slowly, he
nodded, and I turned in his arms and led him over to the mattress. We didn’t need roses or candles or anything else to commemorate this moment. There in our sanctuary, by the light of battery-operated lanterns, on an old inflatable mattress, we would become one. We would consummate that promise of forever that I would hold foremost in my heart. No matter what else happened, whether we were discovered or not, we would forever have this moment.

  Reaching down into my backpack, I picked up the things that Richard had given me. Jamie’s eyes got wide as I set the condoms and lubricant on the floor by the mattress. When he saw them, I think he understood that I was serious about following through. Deep down, I felt guilty and, though I refused to admit it, a little scared about what we were going to do. Only seventeen years old, we were about to have sex outside of marriage; I knew that was a sin. Not only that, we were going to have homosexual sex, which apparently was an even bigger sin. The line we were about to cross was deeply marked in the sand, and we could never, ever go back.

  We went to either side of the mattress and crawled naked to meet in the center. Our mouths and our bodies met as we knelt in the middle of the bed, kissing, groping. We fell sideways onto it and lay side by side, and I traced the contours of his perfect face with my fingers. He leaned forward, our lips met, and I wrapped one of my legs around his waist in my desperate need to be closer to him. I stroked his face, his hair, his shoulders, anything I could reach. Our perfectly synchronized kisses were punctuated with unrestrained sounds barely discernible above the pounding rain on the tree house roof.

  Surprising Jamie by taking the initiative, I pushed him onto his back and straddled his slender hips. I loved the way he looked up at me with a mixture of wonder and lust smoldering in his sapphire eyes. Grasping my hips as I leaned forward to kiss him again, his hands then slid languidly up my sides and into my hair. Whimpering quietly into my mouth, he lifted his hips, rubbing against me. His whimpers quickly turned to breathless pants, and slowly I rocked my hips. My breathing accelerated wildly, and I could feel my heart thudding against my ribs.

  As I moved from his perfect lips, the scent of his bodywash mingled with the hot, musky smell of his body as I kissed his neck. My hands shook slightly as I held myself above him, my kisses making a searing, wet trail across his shoulder. His hands moved down, rubbing my back gently as, finally, I kissed my way down his chest. I reveled in the way his nipples responded to my touch, hardening under the careful teasing of my tongue and my teeth. He was hard against my stomach.

  “Jamie,” I intoned softly as his other hand slid over my stomach and then as high as he could reach on my chest, splayed over my heated skin. I moved one of my hands off his thigh and laid it over his hand on my chest, holding it there, and I was sure he could feel my heart pounding under his palm. Jamie wrapped his other arm around me, his breathing became increasingly labored, and he squeezed my ass, cupping the flesh in his strong hand. I don’t think he’d ever been quite so aggressive, but it excited me that I made him lose control.

  “Oh God, Brian…,” he moaned as I rocked my hips faster, rubbing our bodies together. Pulling back slightly, he put his hand on my hip, stopping my motion. As his breathing slowed, I felt his loving kisses before he laid me down tenderly, making me feel like the most important thing in the world to him. Caressing my cheek, he gazed into my eyes, as if looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation.

  He found none.

  After one last kiss, he rolled away from me, toward the crate next to the bed. Opening the box, he removed one of the packaged condoms. He rolled on the first one inside out and then swore. I laughed nervously while he rolled the second one on correctly. The reality of what we were about to do was pounding in my head. The tension in my body was near the breaking point, and sweat beaded on my forehead as I waited for him to be ready.

  “How should we…,” Jamie began but then trailed off, a little self-conscious. His face and chest were flushed, most likely from a combination of the heat, his excitement, and his embarrassment. I had to remind myself that even though he was older, he had no more experience than I did. Considering the different possibilities I had seen in the pictures on the Internet, I began to describe what I had seen. I wanted to make things as easy as I could; we were both so nervous.

  “You could be behind me? But I…,” I started, but then it was me who was embarrassed. It was starting to become a bit awkward, and I didn’t want that. I wanted it to be beautiful, special. I wanted it to be perfect.

  “But what?” he asked affectionately, pushing my damp curls back and kissing my forehead.

  “I want to see your face.” He moaned softly, and his mouth moved from my forehead to kiss me, a deep, penetrating kiss. Then he pushed me back against the pillows again and took the lubricant from the crate. After popping the lid, he poured a liberal amount into his cupped palm, spilling a bit on the sheets. First, he generously smeared it over the condom, and then he nudged my legs apart with his elbows. As he used his long fingers to open me to him, I looked at the rough ceiling of the tree house.

  At first it felt strange, even a bit wrong, to have someone, even Jamie, touch me like that. I tensed, and for a few minutes it felt more like an examination than lovemaking. I began to soften a little, and when I felt him add a second finger to the first, it started to burn. I felt stretched, invaded. I reached down and grasped myself. After a while, it started to feel good. So I tried to stop thinking about the guilt and the fear, focusing only on the pleasure he was giving me.

  “Oh… that feels good,” I told him as I spread my legs further.

  “Are you ready?” he asked breathlessly, and biting my lip, I nodded. I wanted to tell him so much more in that moment, that I wasn’t afraid, that I loved him, but the fear had crept back into my chest, and I felt strangled around my own words.

  My entire body tensed as I waited for it to start, for him to make love to me. I closed my eyes so he wouldn’t see my hesitation. A cry ripped from my chest as his weight pressed down on me and almost without warning, my body accommodated his. Tears welled in my eyes at the burn and my hands balled into fists as I tried to hold on, but I had nothing to grab.

  “Are you okay?” he asked and started to pull out, remorse evident in his tone, but I grabbed his hip. We’d already crossed that barrier; there was no reason for us to stop now. The pain, which was now shooting up my back, would subside in a few minutes. At least… I hoped it would.

  “Just… just give me a minute,” I gasped, and everything tightened either from the fear or stress or whatever. I didn’t know what to do. The pain, the burning, was intense, and I tried to stop the tears that were welling in my eyes from falling. Jamie leaned forward, kissing me gently on the forehead. As he remained perfectly still, I felt my body start to gradually relax. Finally, the pain subsided from a sharp burn to a dull ache.

  “Please… just go slow,” I requested, trying to force my body to relax. His movements were slow and tender, but quiet sounds were forced from me as we made love. A few of the tears that had been threatening to fall rolled down my cheeks as I continued to stare at the ceiling, trying not to think about the pain and the way this beautiful moment had become so uncomfortable between us.

  “Brian,” he murmured as he leaned forward, wiping my tears away with his trembling fingers and kissing me. As he did, our position shifted and a warmth spread through me, like sitting before a campfire. I felt it everywhere. It started to feel good, really good. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him in that position. His damp forehead pressed against my cheek as he stopped moving.

  “Right there, Jamie…. Just like that… please… please!” I implored as a tingle swept over my skin and my body responded. I didn’t know exactly what had changed or why the way he was thrusting into me made it different, but he started to move in earnest now. I moved right along with him, my hips pushing against his of their own volition. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he slid his arms under my shoulders. We were as close as two peopl
e could be, and I suddenly understood why people called it becoming one person.

  This was what I’d always thought making love was all about.

  The feeling was incredible, and I felt as if my heart would burst with the emotion that was coursing through me as we made love. It was beautiful and sweet, and I knew that as long as I lived, I would always remember that night, those precious moments when we were one. I would remember the cadence of the rain as it pounded on the roof, the smell of Jamie’s hair as he pressed his forehead into the pillow next to my head, and of course every moan, every grunt, and every whimper that was forced from him in the heat of his arousal.

  “Oh… God… Jamie,” I whimpered as I felt my orgasm build. My body was on fire, and the harsh sounds coming from Jamie told me he was also close. His head fell onto my shoulder as I fisted his damp hair tightly with my free hand, just trying to get him closer. I needed him; I needed his love and his comfort.

  “Please,” I begged, although I wasn’t sure what for, while my other hand continued to rub and stroke my erection with frenzied speed. Panting, I felt that bowstring tighten in the pit of my stomach. The muscles in my legs, my shoulders, and even my chest and neck tightened. I was right there. Finally it snapped, and even over the sound of the fan and the radio, my cry was loud.

  “Oh God… God….” I clung to him as I came, the evidence trapped between our writhing bodies. I felt myself tighten around Jamie and he stilled, his body riding wave after wave of his climax. His cry muffled against my neck, he kissed it tenderly and then turned his face, pressing his forehead into my shoulder. His breathing was loud and labored in my ear as I wrapped both arms around him. Pulling back slightly, he sought my lips with his own and kissed me sweetly as he held me.

  I pushed the guilt back into a corner of my mind. The line was crossed, and there was no way to go back.